


JARVIS

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: дезинформация [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Jarvis Feels, M/M, Nicknames, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1828483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky had decided fairly early on that his favorite thing about the future was JARVIS. The AI had been so instrumental in his feeling comfortable in the Tower, had become such a part of his daily life, that Bucky incorrectly assumed that JARVIS would be accessible to him everywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	JARVIS

Bucky had decided fairly early on that his favorite thing about the future was JARVIS. The AI had been so instrumental in his feeling comfortable in the Tower, had become such a part of his daily life, that Bucky incorrectly assumed that JARVIS would be accessible to him everywhere.

This bubble was rather rudely burst during his first post-Winter Soldier outing. Leaving the Tower in the first place had been stressful enough, even if it was something he ( _probably_ ) should have done months earlier. That day in particular he hadn’t really been given a choice, as Steve, Sam and Clint dragged him ( _under protest_ ) several blocks down the street to get coffee.

Coffee, it seemed, had changed a lot since his day, becoming an over complicated mess of imaginary words interspersed with actual Italian, which left him overwhelmed and out of his depth in about ten seconds flat.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder sympathetically. “I know, right?”

Bucky shook his head, and sighed. “Hey, JARVIS, where do I even start?”

Two paces ahead of him, Clint spun on his heels, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Even before he erupted in laughter, Bucky knew he’d said something incredibly dense just from the way Steve’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“Oh, oh god, did… did you just?” Clint gasped between fits of laughter, one arm clutching his stomach as if he was in pain.

“Alright, Clint,” Steve chided, and Bucky tensed up in response to the careful, apologetic tone he used next. “JARVIS is only in the tower, Buck. I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

Bucky was pretty sure he said something in response, something like, “Right, thanks.” It was hard to remember precisely what it was he’d said, because he was too focused on not giving in to the impulse to smash Barton in the nose as he continued to howl with laughter.

Not surprisingly, Bucky all but shut down for the duration of their outing, quietly ordering a small black coffee, carefully copying what Steve had done when it was his turn to swipe a plastic card and sign the little machine. It seemed clunky and inelegant compared to what he had become used to in the Tower.

Sam and Steve tried to fill the silence with casual conversation, talk of what Sam had been up to, lots of hints dropped regarding attending one of his meetings. Barton’s conversational contributions consisted of interjecting with dick jokes whenever possible, but otherwise he was silent. Bucky kept his expression neutral, not wanting to let Clint see how much the ( _continued, in the form of occasional snorts and shakes of the head_ ) laughter had bothered him.

Since entering the establishment, Bucky had kept track of every person’s movements, of their positions in the store if they remained, the direction they departed if they did not, and came to the conclusion that at least three of the people he’d observed so far were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Two of them, a couple four tables over, had stuck around, while the third had positioned himself on the roof opposite the coffee shop.

Clearly, despite Steve’s talking it up as no big deal, S.H.I.E.L.D. was still reserving judgement where he was concerned. He couldn’t really blame them, since he was as skeptical as his worst critics when it came to the deprogramming debate. Still, part of him was tempted to head to the bathroom and sneak out, if only to see how they’d respond ( _panic_ ), but he stayed put, sipped his coffee like a good boy.

Sat, and counted off the time in his head, wondering how long they would have to stay out before it was considered a success. Thirty-six some minutes, and he was itching to get back home, maybe see if Barton was stupid enough to spar with him. Not that he’d actually try to hurt Clint; it’d just feel good to get a few jabs in.

When the fourth S.H.I.E.L.D. agent wandered in, Bucky slid his phone out of his pocket, and tapped out a message under the table.

_Please blow something up so I can come home, and I’ll bring you a big, big coffee._

Less than forty seconds later, Steve and Clint were pulling out their own phones, frowning down at the screens. “Sorry, Buck, we’re gonna need to head back a little early.”

“Something wrong, Stevie?” he asked, overplaying his innocent tone if Steve’s arched eyebrow was any indication.

“Stark’s being all cryptic, but sounds like something went kablooey,” Clint answered.

Bucky’s phone vibrated with Tony’s response. _Largest red eye they’ll give you. None of that foofoo shit either. I need it blacker than Fury’s twisted little heart._

“Hey, Buck, c’mon,” Steve called, heading for the door. Bucky held his hand up as he dashed to the counter to get Tony’s coffee for him. He flashed his largest smile at the barista, which softened the blow when he explained he needed it on the double.

Tony was waiting for them when they got back to the Tower, leaning nonchalantly against a pillar in the lobby, absently fussing with the phone in his hand. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

“You tell me, you’re the one who called.” Steve was definitely suspicious, Bucky recognized his suspicious voice all too well.

“JARVIS, did you not understand that was supposed to be a test of the emergency Avengers broadcast system, in case of an actual assembling worthy emergency, yadda yadda yadda?”

“Terribly sorry, sir,” JARVIS responded sarcastically, and the mental image Bucky had of him in his head was rolling his eyes in Tony’s direction. “However did I misunderstand such a simple request?”

Bucky strode over to Tony, who waggled his eyebrows as he accepted the offering of coffee.

“Wait, so everything is cool?” Clint asked.

“Sure looks that way, sorry to bust up your knitting circle for nothing.” Tony headed for the elevators, while Steve made a noise of frustration. “Hey, Buckaroo Banzai, since you’re here and conveniently free, c’mon down and let me show you what Bruce and I came up with last night.”

Bucky felt guilty following Tony into the elevator, but also relieved, tried to soften the moment by giving Steve a genuine smile and a little wave as the elevator doors slide shut.

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Bucky said as soon as they were alone.

“My pleasure, Sergeant Barnes,” JARVIS answered, while Tony protested with, “Hey! I’m the one who orchestrated that great escape. Throw some love my way.”

Bucky tried and failed to smother his smile. “You were already rewarded. Try not to burn your mouth.”

At some point, Clint would tell Tony about Bucky’s little coffee shop mix up, but he had a feeling Tony would have his back when the time came. If anything, he should be flattered—he’d invented JARVIS, after all, and the fact that Bucky had assumed everyone would want a JARVIS of their very own said a lot about the quality of his work.

Yes, he had been planning on utilizing the highly advanced AI for something simple, like help with a coffee order, but that had nothing to do with why he adored JARVIS. Not only was he ( _much like Stark himself_ ) very futuristic in that way Bucky had loved in the serials back in the day, he was also surprisingly compassionate, and easy to talk to ( _as was Tony_ ).

When you couldn’t sleep at night, JARVIS would answer any stupid question you had, or read to you, or help you with learning modern slang so you’d be less likely to make an ass of yourself. When you woke up choking on tears, screaming in Russian, he reminded you of where and who and when you were, without ever sounding pitying, or alarmed by your behavior.

“Might I suggest seeking out company, Sergeant? It often helps sir when he can’t sleep.”

Bucky swallowed around the lump in his throat as he pulled his sweat damp hair back into a ponytail with his flesh-hand shaking. “Is he still up?”

“Sir has been awake for fifty-two hours and twenty-seven minutes.”

This was the other thing Bucky liked about JARVIS. He genuinely cared—no matter what anyone else thought, Bucky wasn’t backing down on this one—and as a result was sneaky in the best possible way, making it easier for his human friends to get over their own hangups and help each other out. Suddenly, Bucky wasn’t weak and fucked up and ashamed that he was too scared to try to go back to sleep, he was just heading off to help a friend.

When he arrived in the workshop, Tony was in the middle of a one-sided argument with DUM-E, goggles shoved up atop his head, a blowtorch going in one hand while the other gesticulated excitedly at the little robot. “I swear to… Barnes?”

Bucky would have laughed, except DUM-E used that moment to make a break for it, rolling over Tony’s foot in the process, which caused him to drop the blowtorch, which caused the grease soaked rags nearby to ignite, which in turn resulted in each of them being doused with fire-retardant foam, Bucky having lunged for Tony in an attempt to help.

Eventually, when the laughing and shouting stopped, he became the center of attention, Tony’s eyes narrowing as he looked Bucky up and down. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

For a long moment, Bucky couldn’t breathe, and took two steps back, wondering why he’d been stupid enough to interrupt. He opened his mouth to issue an apology, but never got the chance. Tony swiped at his chest, pushing aside the bits of foam clinging to him, continuing on as if all the color hadn’t drained from Bucky’s face in response to his tone.

“A Spider-Man shirt? You’re seriously wearing a Spider-Man t-shirt? Where did you even get that?”

Bucky licked his lips, not failing to notice that Tony hadn’t bothered to remove his hand. It was still pressed against his chest, warm, and comforting, and distracting. “It was in the drawer.”

“JARVIS? Are you fucking with Daddy again?”

“Sir, I’m sure you’ll find yourself surprised to learn that Agent Barton was the one kind enough to donate said t-shirt to Sergeant Barnes.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Iron Man is on my underwear,” Bucky offered, feeling immensely pleased with himself as Tony stared, and blinked at him, apparently rendered speechless.

It only took him the space of a few heartbeats to recover. “Actually, that makes me feel a lot better, thank you.”

“Sorry if I’m interrupting. I ah… couldn’t sleep and JARVIS said you were up, so…”

A muscle in Tony’s cheek twitched, and he pulled the date and time out of thin air before crumpling it up like a piece of paper and chucking it across the room. “Huh, time flies and all that.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, then gave a little full body shake, bits of foam flicking off of him as he did so. “Okay, new plan,” he announced, clapping.

“I didn’t realize there was an old plan.”

Tony ignored him. “Shower as fast as humanly possible, then meet me in the living room.”

Bucky didn’t have to be told twice. He was still surprised Stark managed to beat him there, sprawled across one of the couches with his feet propped up and a tumbler of scotch in hand. An assortment of leftovers was spread across the coffee table, along with a couple of the beers Bucky was partial to. He settled down, instantly feeling more relaxed, as JARVIS picked a movie for them to watch.

“Sir has requested something particularly inane,” JARVIS announced, sounding apologetic. “I present to you _Sharknado_.”

“Perfect, love you, J,” Tony cooed, eyes scrunched up adorably as he somehow slouched even further into the cushions of the couch.

Knowing that he’d be eating alone otherwise, Bucky loaded a plate up with a slice of pepperoni pizza, three of the dumplings from the box labeled PROPERTY OF HAWKEYE - YOU TOUCH YOU DIE, along with falafel and hummus. He snatched the scotch from Tony’s hand, replaced it with a fork, and shoved the plate at him.

“Thanks, mom,” Tony grumbled, even if he began inhaling the food after the first bite went down. “You’re worse than Steve with the whole mother hen thing,” he muttered around a mouthful of pizza.

It took less than twenty minutes before Tony was slouched over, dead to the world. Bucky helped himself to the scotch, so as not to be wasteful, then hunkered down, careful not to disturb Tony. He closed his eyes, concentrated on the sound of the other man’s breathing, smiling to himself as JARVIS lowered the volume a bit on the TV.

“Goodnight, JARVIS,” he said softly. “Thanks for everything.”

“Thank _you_ , sir. I shall endeavour to prevent you from being disturbed.”

**Author's Note:**

> And the last of the parts from Tumblr land. You can find them there, as well: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/dezinformatsia


End file.
